


when i'm lost i feel so very found

by feathertofly



Series: patient love [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dancer!Louis, Future Fic, H U S B A N D S, M/M, Nurse!Harry, Timestamp, harry wants a baby, married stupid boys, potential infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:30:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1319890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feathertofly/pseuds/feathertofly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>so dancing full time didn't pan out. he still gets to teach once a week for danielle at her school, and it's not like they're starving, or homeless. they live down the street from liam and danielle and can babysit little jamie whenever they want. kids of their own are on the ever approaching horizon, especially lately with the post-its with storks drawn on them and baby clothing catalogs strategically placed on his bedside table.</p><p>so if everything is going so right, why is harry always late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	when i'm lost i feel so very found

**Author's Note:**

> this is a timestamp to my story with urgency but not with haste, it takes place a few years in the future. it's probably possible to read this without reading that first, but i wouldn't suggest it. 
> 
> the title is from anchor by mindy gledhill. go listen to everything she does because she's absolutely wonderful. the first song louis dances to is laura palmer, by bastille, and the final dance is it's okay love, by saybia.

the lights are blinding, but louis doesn’t need to see. he’s run through this routine so many times in his head, on this stage, in his living room, he could do it in his sleep.

he hears the filming director count down from ten to one, the audience fall silent as his music cues up. one last loud whistle from where he knows harry is sitting on the front row, and louis grins and presses three fingers to his lips. he has it in the bag, he does.

the steps are executed perfectly, twists and spins and jumps. the crowd gasps and cheers as he gives his all into the dance. he’s sweating so much the light layer of foundation that’s been caked onto his face must be smudging, but it doesn’t matter. this is what he lives for.

it’s the final move, and his last chance to impress. there was a boys choir that sings acapella covers of rock songs that was especially good this week, but with how he’s been performing tonight there’s no chance he won’t take the top spot. just one last jump and he’s through.

he spins through the air, the music climaxing, and –

the floor comes up faster than louis expected. his ankle hits it with just that much extra force, and a pop rings out through the building. he knows his body well enough to know that something is wrong the moment it happens. it’s his knee, probably his acl from what he remembers of his anatomy classes. but it doesn’t matter what it is, all that matters is that it’s torn and he’s never felt pain this bad in his life.

the music ends, but he doesn’t get up. the applause doesn’t ring through the hall. it’s all over.

 

 

nine months later

"honestly, louis, if you'd quit being stupid for thirty seconds and just _think_ -"  
  
louis lets out a laugh that borders on hysterical.  
  
"oh, i'm stupid now? isn't that fucking convenient for you, harold, so you can go fucking around while i'm busy being too stupid to think. sorry we can't all be medical professionals, some of us can only dream of being able to save a life by taking temperatures and slapping plasters on ouchies."  
  
he collapses onto the couch, arms crossed and pouting impressively. harry let's out an inhuman growl and grips at his hair, seconds away from yanking it out completely. in the back of his mind, louis hopes he doesn't get that far; as much as he's pretending otherwise, harry's widows peak is inching farther back each year. it's especially obvious when he pulls his hair back in those idiot ponytails.  
  
"do you have any idea how frustrating it is to try and have a conversation with you lately?" harry hollers, voice nearly breaking at the end.  
  
"oh, yeah, of course,", louis snips back, "let's just blame it on me again. fucking typical, hazza."  
  
"who am i supposed to blame it on, louis, the taxi driver that got stuck in traffic? the prime minister? the city planners who laid out london a thousand years ago and didn't think to themselves, you know what, someday there's going to be a neurotic asshole who's going to lose his mind if his husband's home an hour late. we should probably widen the streets to more than one lane so that sexy curly bloke can get home faster to avoid this nightmare situation for the fifteenth time this week!"  
  
by the end of his rant, louis is curled with his knees under his chin, smiling like an idiot.  
  
"husband," he coos happily, and all the wind escapes from harry's sails.  
  
"yeah," he says, a crooked grin on his face. "husbands."  
  
he collapses onto the couch next to louis and laces their fingers together before bringing them up and kissing each of louis' knuckles softly, spending extra time on the white gold band around his ring finger.  
  
"can we be finished, lou?" he asks after burying his face in louis' neck, "please? i'm just so tired and my feet hurt, 've been on them all day and i just-"  
  
"can't blame me for being worried," louis says as he pets harry's hair, "my boy is such a catch, i feel like i'm constantly in danger of having some ridiculously wealthy model sweep in and claim you for his own."  
  
"someone already did that, you idiot," fondness seeping in through every word. "dunno if you heard, but i got myself a man to come home to. married me in a ceremony by the sea. ceremony was so lovely i cried."  
  
"liked it so much he put a ring on it, did he?"  
  
"beyonce would be proud," harry nods solemnly.  
  
the argument seems settled, for now, until late at night after they're curled up around each other in bed. it blows louis' mind that he gets the chance to do this. even now, years after they'd pushed their twin sized dorm beds together at uni, he still can wake up at any hour of the night and reach out and feel harry's warm skin, hear the slight whistle in his breaths when he's stuffy. it's nothing short of a miracle.  
  
harry's humming some bit of a song that louis doesn't know, tapping his foot against the covers like it's been stuck in his head for ages. it's silly  that this is what makes louis nervous, but he doesn't know the song. he doesn't recognize it. and he hates that there's anything about harry he doesn't know, even something as simple as the song that's stuck in his head.  
  
sometimes louis feels like it's a sort of war flashback to the years when he didn't know anything at all about harry, where he was or what he was doing. he's spent years now msking up for lost time, but sometimes - like now - it just doesn't cut it.  
  
"what are you thinking about so loudly over there, hmmmm?"  
  
louis startles, but just burrows deeper into harry's side. he wants an answer, wants one so badly, but he's so, so tired tonight. it's far easier to cop out.  
  
"should i be worried at how many of our arguments are settled using beyonce lyrics?"  
  
harry laughs, and louis can almost hear him roll his eyes.  
  
"oh, i do love you, lou."  
  
that's the last he hears before harry slips away to sleep. louis wishes it could be half that easy for him.  
  
  
  
  
"... and then jamie picked up the spoon and started chasing me around laughing! every time i ran he shrieked and almost fell down from laughing so hard. i swear, that kid is gonna be the death of me."  
  
normally louis would be in stitches. nothing cheers him up like stories about his godson, especially stories where jamie terrorizes liam. he's taught the little boy well. they often have to stop mid run just so louis can clutch his stomach and giggle.  
  
liam's smile fades as he notices louis' distracted half smile, and he slows to a walk.  
  
"alright, lou, spit it up. what's going on."  
  
louis isn't even surprised that liam calls him out on his sour mood, just rubs the heels of his hands against his eye sockets as he walks. he's just lucky liam has been running ahead of him and hasn't noticed his limp.  
  
"it's just... things are a bit weird at home."  
  
liam's rolls his eyes.  
  
"problems with you and harry? that doesn't sound likely. what's going on? is it about nick?"  
  
a cold chill runs down louis's spine and he skids to a stop. "what about nick?"  
  
"i know it's been years and you've clearly moved on and are settled, but hazza told me he's back in town and they've been talking." liam's brows furrow deeper. "that is what you were fighting about, isn't it? he did tell you?"  
  
louis can hardly move, bends over and braces his hands against his kneed, focusing on expanding and collapsing his chest in a  rhythmic pattern.  
  
"no, i mean. yeah. he told... um." louis can't contain it. he takes off at a full run, ignoring the sharp pain in his ankle.  
  
"mate, wait up!" liam hollers at him, but louis just waves him off.  
  
"forgot i had a, a thing. i'll call you later, love you, li!"  
  
  
  
  
  
 the truth is, louis has no reason to worry. his life, with harry by his side, is all he could've dreamed of. sure, he not a part of any great dance crew, and it's been a while since he's performed himself - after making it through to the second round of Britain's Got Talent and an injury that led to him being dropped firmly out into the cold, he'd lost a touch of his enthusiasm.  
  
so dancing full time didn't pan out. he still gets to teach once a week for danielle at her school, and he loves his job at the local primary school. it's not like they're starving, or homeless. they live down the street from liam and danielle and can babysit little jamie whenever they want. kids of their own are on the ever approaching horizon, especially lately with the post-its with storks drawn on them and baby clothing catalogs strategically placed on his bedside table.  
  
so if everything is going so right, why is harry always late?  
  
it's not quite the fifteenth time this week, harry'd naturally pulled that number out of his ass. but it's been happening more and more lately. no call, no text, just louis alone at the dinner table across from an empty plate.  
  
it's stupid, and he knows to his bones that he'll regret it. but louis can't help himself. he pulls his phone out, and makes a call.

  
  
 "i'm here, i'm here, sorry darling," harry calls as he rushed through the door. louis can hear him tapping the snow from his converse so as not to drag it through the flat, and louis _loves_  him. he loves him so much and that's all he can cling to in an attempt to keep from spinning out of control.  
  
"lou?"  
  
louis' knuckles are white where he grips the arms of his chair. his phone is sitting beside his bare plate.  
  
"lou, lou what is it?" harry's brow furrows as he drops to his knees beside louis' chair. he's sweaty, hair slicked back and skin glistening and he'd changed out of his scrubs and a black hole opens in the bottom of his stomach.  
  
"where have you been, harry?"  
  
his voice is small and catches in his throat in a way he hates. all he can think is _please, please let him not lie._  
  
"there was an emergency at work, i stayed after an hour and my phone died. i'm sorry, love."  
  
it is the actual worst thing he could've said, and by the way harry takes a sigh as he sees louis' face crumple shows it.  
  
"weird, because susannah said you'd left an hour early today. so who's lying, harry? is it you, or your sixty year old coworker? who is lying to me? damn it, you know what? don't even answer that."  
  
"lou, okay wait -"  
  
"nope."  
  
"louis, will you just -"  
  
"nope."  
  
louis doesn't even think, just grabs his keys from the table by the door and walks out into the night.  
  
  
it's hardly fair and louis knows it, but he can't help it. the fear is all encompassing, grabbing him around the throat and cutting off his air flow. it's every nightmare he's ever had, someone taking harry away.  
  
he hates that he can't be rational. they've been married for nearly three years, for heaven's sake. and sure, he's gotten older, isn't the glowing fit dancer he was when they first met. he's let himself go a bit, maybe, but he hadn't - he never would've thought it would be enough to send harry running back to fucking grimshaw, of all people.  
  
moisturizer. he needs moisturizer, and maybe hair dye. he'll get a membership to the gym in the morning, as soon as liam wakes up. fuck his foot, it doesn't matter anymore. he'll work harder than anyone, anyone in the world, he'll stop spending so much on crap food, he'll do anything.  
  
fuck, he isn't even wearing shoes. how is he supposed to win harry back if he can't even bloody well remember to wear shoes?  
  
he walks aimlessly for a while, trying to avoid the piles of dog poo and the occasional puddles. he's nearly made it to the end of the street when a car honks next to him.  
  
"get in," harry hollers through the open window.  
  
"go away, harry," louis yells, but his voice breaks at the end. harry can't see him like this, he's not good yet. one look at louis' runny nose and bloodshot eyes and he'll leave him for sure.  
  
"get in the damn car, louis," harry growls.  
  
and, okay. louis' feet are pretty cold. the december air is pretty unforgiving on his thin jumper as well. and the range rover does have heated seats.  
  
he slips in the car, quiet and small and feeling utterly destroyed, but harry doesn't turn the car back towards home. he navigates around the neighborhood and every time louis opens his mouth to say something, he glances over and sees the hard set of harry's mouth and thinks better of it.  
  
louis is so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn't recognize where they are until they've pulled into the parking lot of danielle's dance studio.  
  
"what are we -"  
  
"shush."  
  
louis shushes.  
  
harry exits the car, giving louis a look and telling him to _stay put, or else_.  
  
fifteen minutes and two breakdowns later, louis jumps out of his skin as harry yanks open his door and pulls him out by the wrist. without a word he leads louis through the greenroom door and into the brightly lit - and completely empty - auditorium, plopping him right in the middle, a few rows back.  
  
"sit," harry commands, "stay."  
  
"woof," louis replies automatically, and it's worth it to see the way harry's lip quirks. the tension in the room is so thick louis can hardly breathe, and he lets out a small whine when harry walks away. surely harry wouldn't _leave_  leave, not like this, but -  
  
the auditorium goes dark, save for a single spotlight on the stage. harry walks on, a microphone in his hand, and stops dead center.  
  
louis is quite sure he's never been so confused in his life.  
  
"you stubborn bastard!" harry yells into the microphone, but even from here louis can see his eyes twinkling. "this was supposed to be for your birthday next week but, as usual, any time i try to do something nice or romantic, you ruin it by being nosy. we'll have a long talk about that later, preferable naked so i can spank it out of you, but for now this'll have to do."  
  
harry takes a deep breath, like he's nervous. louis is sure he's written him a song, but that happens often enough that he shouldn't be quite this nervous.  
  
"lou, you're the love of my life. my soulmate, my best friend, my better half. from day one, i knew it." and oh, he's getting choked up. harry, in the middle of the stage, wipes away a stray tear that's threatening to escape and louis' heart expands more than he thought possible.  
  
"i had more to say but i'm so nervous, and i thought i'd have another few weeks to work on my speech. suppose i should be grateful to do it now instead of mucking up in front of everyone at your party, but. anyway." his laugh is a bit choked up, but he smiles so wide and louis can't help smiling back. "guess what i'm trying to say is just this. loved you then, love you still. always have and always will. this is for you, my love."  
  
and then harry puts the microphone on the floor and pulls the remote to the sound system from his back pocket, and presses a button.  
  
soft piano music fills the auditorium, too loud to hear anything harry would say. louis nearly gestures harry to turn it down, and then.  
  
and then, harry begins to dance.  
  
his back goes straight, arms to the side, as he reaches out and taps his toe. to the front, to the side, to the back, in time with the music.

 _when all the world is spinning ‘round_  
 _like a red balloon way up in the clouds,_  
 _and my feet will not stay on the ground,_  
 _you anchor me back down._  
  
step, ball, change. pirouettes. harry spins, the spotlight catching his blinding grin when he nails a move and highlighting his blush when he stumbles. louis leans as close as he can, forearms resting on the seat in front of him and chin cupped in his hands.  
  
 _there are those who think that I’m strange._  
 _they would box me up and tell me to change,_  
 _but you hold me close and softly say_  
 _that you wouldn’t have me any other way._  
  
harry must've been working on his choreography for weeks, the way he schools his giant giraffe limbs into something orderly and graceful. louis is absolutely blown away at how hard his darling husband must've worked at this. and it's for him. harry's never once had an interest in dance, other than goofy grinding in the kitchen while they do dishes. but this, this is harry's story. it's the story of him and louis and in spite of his stumbles and frozen moments, louis had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.  
  
 _when people pin me as a clown,_  
 _you behave as though i'm wearing a crown._  
 _when i'm lost i feel so very found when you anchor me back down._  
  
the routine ends with harry on one knee, arms open wide. it's a question, and louis can only give one answer.  
  
he stands, carefully making his way down the aisle into the row leading to the stage, he pauses for a second, but it's a heartbeat too long because harry's face falters and that simply isn't acceptable. he runs the rest of the way, climbing lightly over the orchestra pit and then walking slowly across the stage to perch on harry's knee. he can't stay in that position long, harry's back must be twinging already, but he wraps his arms around harry's neck and he's going to stay here for as long as harry will let him.  
  
"i love you, you little fool," harry whispers into his ear, "do you get that now?"  
  
louis breathes deeply, trying to calm his racing heart.  
  
"i know, harry, i'm so sorry, i am so so sorry, i couldn't stop thinking what it -"  
  
"look, this isn't over. we need to have a chat and figure out what on earth would make you jump to conclusions like that. i'm not just gonna up and leave you, alright? fuck, lou, even the idea of being with anyone else makes me sick to my stomach. it's you, for me, okay?"  
  
louis just nods, too overwhelmed to speak.  
  
"can we, um, home?" he finally manages.  
  
"course, pet," harry says with a kiss to louis' hair.  
  
louis gets up first, then pulls harry to his feet. they both wince as harry's knee's crack loudly, echoing through the building. harry smiles ruefully, but doesn't protest as louis winds his arms around his waist and plasters himself to harry's side. they walk that way, tripping over each other like a couple of puppies, over to the lighting and sound board, harry flipping everything off easily after years of practice from running the various shows for the dance academy. he even remembers to take off his shoes so as not to ruin the taps on them on the concrete, and the two of them pad barefoot, arms entwined, to the car.  
 

the flat is deathly silent when louis walks in. harry is still in the car, practicing lamaze breathing or something to calm down before they have a talk. he'd needed space, and after louis had been such a brat, it's the least he can do.  
  
and to be honest, he can use some space as well. trying to sort out his thoughts with harry right there next to him is getting him nowhere. there are a thousand thoughts and feelings and questions flying through his head, and he can't for the life of him settle down.  
  
so he does what a lifetime of being british has trained him to do. he makes tea.  
  
harry lets himself in through the front door as the kettle begins to whistle. louis listen to his steps and can see in his mind the exact trajectory of his steps; toeing off his boots at the door, hanging his jacket, placing the keys in the bowl by the door. raising his arms above his head and letting his shoulder crack with a heavy sigh. walking down the hall, and leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.  
  
"we're out of yorkshire, so i had to go with peppermint. i know it's your favorite anyway so maybe just forget the part where i tell you i wanted to make my favorite instead."  
  
"louis."  
  
"not that i don't like peppermint," louis continues, voice getting higher and faster in that way he hates, "it probably is a better choice anyway, seeing as how it's nearly time for bed. don't want to get all riled up just before -"  
  
harry's hand around his bicep twisting him around startles him, and he doesn't have time to catch his breath before harry's lips are pressed against his, kissing him firmly. harry's hands grip him tightly, and he kisses louis until he sags against his body.  
  
"now," harry pulls away enough to speak, but keeps their bodies pressed firmly together. "we're going to talk. and not about the tea."  
  
louis turns in his arms, bracing himself against the counter but making no move to escape harry's hold. it's just as well; harry simply pulls him closer with his arms wrapped tightly around louis' shoulders.  
  
"you have to let me in, love," he whispers, "please. please don't push me away."  
  
louis' face crumples at that. it hurts so badly because he knows it's true. intentional or not, he's made harry feel as if he doesn't want him around.  
  
"hazza..." he starts, but harry interrupts him quickly.  
  
"not like this," he says, and flips louis back around to face him. "we're a team, alright? but this isn't going to work if you won't even look at me."  
  
finally, finally, louis raises his eyes to meet harry's. instead of the irritation and annoyed look he'd expected, harry looks at him with nothing but kindness and love. a little frustration, perhaps, but no impatience.  
  
"for what it's worth, i'm sorry."  
  
a rueful smile twists harry's face. "you and me both, darling. what do you say we get a little closey, hmmm?"  
  
luckily harry has the foresight to switch off the kettle before leading louis through the flat and to the bedroom. louis makes a noise of complaint when harry starts to unbutton his top, but harry just pets his hair.  
  
"harry, i _can't_  -"  
  
"not gonna, you know. just, like this, yeah?"  
  
harry shrugs off louis' shirt and then reaches behind him to remove his own. he lays louis down on the bed gently, then follows, stretching himself out alongside louis. the skin to skin contact soothes him more than he thought possible.  
  
harry places one of his massive paws on louis' chest, directly over his heart, until louis' breathing evens out. once he deems him sufficiently calm, he speaks.  
  
"how long have you honestly been thinking i was cheating on you? be honest with me, lou. i swear i thought you were kidding all this time, cripes."  
  
louis squeezes his eyes shut at the hurt, the embarrassment. when his breaths start to get shallow and quick, harry scoots closer and presses more firmly on his chest until they slow, then he releases.  
  
"three months," louis whispers, and when he's brave enough to open his eyes, harry's brows are furrowed.  
  
"i've only been working with dani for like a month and a half. what was it before that -" a look of comprehension comes over his face. "your knee," he says finally.  
  
"i went to a doctor and he said the ligaments aren't healing properly after surgery," louis admits, hating the taste of them on his mouth. "i can exercise on it lightly, but I won’t be able to dance for years, maybe never again."  
  
the room is silent, so silent. louis doesn't even breathe.  
  
"and how exactly does that translate to me cheating on you?"  
  
louis lets out a bitter laugh. "please, harold. you're the one from a farm estate; you might as well just take me out behind the barn and shoot me."  
  
he's not sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't to get pushed off the bed. his fall is broken by the pile of dirty laundry he hasn't gotten around to washing yet, and the irony kills him.  
  
"who do you think you are, you little fucker?!" harry demands from the bed. "you get hurt and you think it's a get out of jail free card?"  
  
louis is stunned, to say the least. harry reaches down to pull him back up to the bed, then shoves him back down - luckily towards the pillows this time. then he drapes himself over louis completely, smashing his face in louis' collarbones and pulling him closer.  
  
"don't you get it, you idiot? every bit of me loves every bit of you. all of it. the part that's clever and annoying and empty and hurt. i'm sorry for you, yeah? but nothing is gonna change how i feel about you."  
  
his intersperses his words with fierce kisses pressed into any bit of louis' skin he can reach. it's overwhelming, all of it. louis' chest feels a bit lighter for the first time in ages, the weight of his secret no longer threatening to crush. the relief seeps through him, unlocking his tense muscles and allowing him to take deep breaths.  
  
"i didn't mean it like that, hazza, i'm not trying to get away from you. it's just -" he bites at his lip and traces absent minded patterns across harry's back, trying to will the words to life. “you want kids, right. you want someone who can be there with you, a hundred percent, someone to build a life with. and i’m damaged goods, don’t you see that? i’ll never be what you need me to be. i can’t run around with the kids, can’t play ball with them.”

a lump grows in louis’ throat at that. fuck, he hadn’t even thought about that. no football anymore. his eyes squeeze shut against the thought; he’ll deal with that another day.

 harry has been quiet this whole time, letting louis work through his thoughts. finally, he sits up and looks louis dead in the eye.

 “lou, I need you to be honest with me. can you do that?” he waits until louis nods, then continues. his voice is as serious as anything louis has ever heard. “don’t think about what i want for a minute, not about your family or your leg or anything. if it was completely up to you, would you wanna have babies with me? if i could be completely happy one way or another, no pressure either way, what would you want to do?”

he’s about to open his mouth and protest that it doesn’t work like that; they’re a team. sacrifices have to be made and compromises reached in a marriage. but harry knows that already, always has. he’s not asking to make louis feel guilty or bully him, he’s just. he wants to know.

and suddenly, louis wants to know too. he pictures it – endless sleepless nights with an infant screaming, stubbing his toes on toys, going without sex for weeks because they’re too exhausted to think, much less get it up. arguing over daycare versus a nanny, dealing with messes and spills. moving into a house outside of london because harry will read an article in the newspaper about crime rates and his entire life being uprooted, and that’s just for a baby. then there’s primary school, high school, uni. will it be better to move back to america and raise their kids in the states? give them the opportunity to be dual citizens? his breath quickens and chest tightens and, wow. he’s having a panic attack and the kid isn’t even born yet.

“harry, i just…” he sighs. “i’m not ready right now. there is no one else on the planet i’d want to have a family with as much as you, and there’s no doubt in my mind the day will come, but it’s not today.”

as much as he tries to hide it, harry is disappointed. he smiles and it’s tight, but honest.

“then we’ll wait. i want that too, lou, i want us to have a baby to love and raise and teach and just have a family. but we need to face the fact that you’re not okay right now, and that’s okay.” he runs his hand over louis’ leg, the hurt one. it twinges, like the whole thing is bruised. “you lost something big. dancing has been your thing for longer than i have, it’s okay to mourn that loss. the kids conversation is officially shelved for now, okay? to be continued at a later date.”

“to be continued,” louis echoes. harry smiles up at him and presses a kiss to his knee.

“while i’m down here,” harry says in a nearly conversational tone, “how about i get around to showing you just how much i don’t want anyone else? Like, ever ever?”

louis’ eyes must be crinkling, because harry’s got this special smiles that he saves for when louis smiles at him like that, and it’s written all over his face.

“well. wouldn’t want to waste the opportunity, would we?”

 

  

 

a few days later, harry is skittish again at dinner. it’s almost as if he’s giving louis an opportunity to try out his big boy communication skills.

“hazza,” louis says carefully, “you’re being weird. stop it or tell me what’s going on.”

“i need you to not be angry with me,” harry begins, and louis’ heart drops. “but i talked to doctor turner about your ankle.”

and, okay, it’s sort of exactly what louis asked him not to do, but considering  some of the alternate follow ups to that sentence, louis will take it.

“okaaaaay,” he says slowly, waiting for harry to continue.

“and, well. he’s got a friend who’s a physical therapist, right, who works specifically with injuries like this.”

“i’ve already done physical therapy, harry.”

“right,” harry allows, “but not like this. doctor turner said he’d be willing to pay for it, he really cares about us. it’s worth a shot, just. give it a chance, lou? what’s the harm?”

 

a lot, it turns out. louis spends hours working on the exercises the therapist gives him, to the point of tears nearly every day. harry is right there beside him, learning the yoga poses and pushing himself beyond his limits. he sits beside louis at the doctor’s office and learns to read every scan.

and, ever so slowly, louis heals. his knee becomes stronger, his walk more even. he learns to open up, and is patient as harry learns to do the same.

 

finally the day of reckoning comes. danielle and louis’ dance academy is having a recital, and louis’ name is on the program all by itself. it’s a relatively simple routine, it has to be, but he’s sweating bullets over it. It’s been two years since his injury, and it’s been a while since it even ached, but.he hasn't been on a stage since the show, what if, what if?

harry had picked the music, and that’s one of the only things keeping louis upright at this point. sure, it’s not the piece he’d danced to, short and heartfelt and sweet, but it’s louis. four minute of exactly what louis has been trying to say all along, and harry had chosen the song that let him know he heard him. it was a tradition that went back for years, harry picking the songs for louis’ routines. finding that playlist on his itunes had been the final straw, letting louis know it was time.

the final class finishes its performance, and danielle walks onstage to applause. she says something about louis, introducing him and the piece, but his blood is roaring so loudly in his ears that he can’t hear a thing.

a spotlight shines in the center of the stage, and when louis makes his way to stand in the center of it he’s shaking. a sharp whistle lets him know that harry is in his place, front and center, and he raises three shaking fingers to his lips as the music cues up.

if he can make it through this, that will be it. he will be officially all healed up, physically and mentally. he thinks of nothing but that as he transitions through the movements, being careful but still throwing his heart into it.

_just when i thought there was nobody out there,_  
 _no one who quite understood me i glanced to the side, and i found you there smiling._  
 _patiently holding my hand, saying over and over, it's ok love. easy love. i'm here._

when the song finally dies out, louis is standing on his feet.

the crowd goes wild, and when the rest of the dancers come out to take their bows, danielle’s eyes are suspiciously wet.

harry vaults right over the grate and picks louis up off his feet and spins him around.

“i can’t even tell you how proud i am of you, darling,” he whispers in louis’ ear.

louis just nods, and takes a deep shaky breath before finally saying what he's been waiting months to say.

“you ready to give me some of those babies, harry styles?”

harry’s responding smile is bright enough to light the whole town.

**Author's Note:**

> so some of you may have noticed that there was another timestamp written for this story that disappeared; i'd written a bit of the nick/harry backstory a few months ago. as silly as it sounds, i got some really unkind comments that sort of took the fire out of me and i ended up deleting it and leaving this story all together for months. it took a bit of time for me to overcome some of those feelings of anxiety and hurt. but these characters weren't ready to be put away yet, so i wanted to share this next little bit in their lives. hope you like it! and if you don't, like. keep your opinions to yourself or something, thanks :) xx


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